


Familiar

by Soliloqueenie



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Darling Pan - Freeform, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-02
Updated: 2013-12-02
Packaged: 2018-01-03 05:57:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1066798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soliloqueenie/pseuds/Soliloqueenie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Peter's touch that Wendy has grown used to, and his only.  It's all too easy to tell when it's not. </p>
<p>Response to a prompt: Peter gets jealous when Felix flirts with Wendy</p>
            </blockquote>





	Familiar

The only thing Wendy had always been fond of in Neverland was the sky.  The moon seemed to shine like a second sun against the unpolluted darkness of the night, and the stars were not dots of light, but sparks, glittering like the jewelry her mother used to wear, as if a great hand had scattered it across the sky.  At the beginning, it had been comforting to know look up at the vast expanse and know that London was seeing the same stars, now the notion was merely fascinating.  If her brothers could look up and see the same sky, who else?  And where were they?

But it’s been years since the stars were her favorite thing to watch.  Stars can’t fly, you see.  Stars don’t move like big cats and dance like something possessed by the wind.  They don’t laugh like each catch of breath is a secret, or have smiles like the sharpened edge of a blade.  Stars cannot play pan-pipes, or make the blood rush through her body like it was trying to escape.  Wendy had always loved the stars, but they had never frightened her, and now, after Peter Pan, the first was no longer nearly as fun without the second.

But Peter had vanished from the revel some time ago, and so Wendy Darling sat upon his dirty wooden throne and looked up.

James, the littlest and sweetest of the Lost Boys, danced merrily in front her and stopped to throw a flower on her lap, laughing.  Wendy smiled back and reached out in time to ruffle his hair into a deeper state of disarray before he was gone again, whirling back into the dervish of bodies around Pan’s fire.  Wendy sat back and twisted the stem o the little daisy between her fingers, wondering where Peter had gone, and how angry he would be if she tried to follow.  Feeling her lips curl into a smile at the thought, she set James’ flower on the edge of Peter’s throne and started to slide off slowly, trying to avoid the notice of the Lost Boys, who were already starting to calm without the sound of Peter’s pipes. 

Long fingers curled loosely around her upper arm, holding her to the chair, and Wendy felt her smile break into a grin.  “You’re back.”  The hand around her bicep tightened suddenly, and the grip felt distinctly and disturbingly unfamiliar.  She knew, without a doubt, the feeling of Peter’s hands around her, around every part of her.  This was something other.  Wendy had learned how to deal with Peter’s touch, how to interpret it, but now she froze, and turned her head slowly, the curve of her lips replaced with something she hoped looked more aloof than she felt.  “Felix.”

His name slid from her mouth distastefully.  There were few of the Lost Boys she truly loved, but only one she truly hated, and here he stood with his murderous fingers wrapped possessively around her arm like she was nothing but the trapped bird that was her namesake.  “Hello, Wendybird,” he said in a low voice, and a shiver of disgust ran down her spine.

“Let go of me,” Wendy snarled, but Felix only chuckled and shook his head.

“I don’t think I will.”  His voice slipped into the familiar teasing drawl, his predator voice.  Wendy tilted her head to the side, realizing that the time when he could have made her feel like prey had passed long ago.  There was no fear in the shake of her clenched fists, only anger.  “See,” he continued, “I’ve seen how Peter Pan treats you, and I’m wondering if maybe I can’t do the same.”  Wendy felt her lips pull back, half a snarl and half in pure revulsion.  “In wondering, /Wendybird/, if I was Peter, and you said ‘Let go of me’….Well, what would Peter do?”

Peter wouldn’t have let go, of course, but she would never have asked him and meant it.  Wendy opened her mouth to respond, and was interrupted by the sound of Peter Pan’s voice cutting through the air, over her shoulder.

“Peter would advise his boy Felix to let go of Wendy, now.” The venom in his voice sent a shiver of excitement down her spine, and she watched the expression on Felix’s face devolve almost instantly from arrogance to alarm.  “Peter would warn the stupid boy who laid a hand on his little bird that those who meddle in the affairs of the Pan do not fare well.”  Wendy felt the sudden pop of air that meant Peter had teleported, and an instant later he was just behind Felix, stepping around him slowly, like the cats that lived farther up on the island, near the cliffs.

“Peter would ask his friend to remember the last time a Lost Boy tried to take something of mine.  Do you?”  Any attempt at subtly had vanished, every consonant that dropped from Peter’s lips was spat, Felix let go of her and stepped away.  “Remember the taste of burning boy in the air, and try to imagine what being cooked would feel like, Felix.  Remember the way you yourself showed he how to tie knots that would leave him just hanging there.  No suffocation, just burning.  Do you remember watching?”

Felix started to stammer something in reply, but before Wendy could make out what excuse he was trying to give, Peter had a knife held to the base of his throat.  A miniscule drop of red welled up at the point of the blade, glittering in the flashes of light provided by the fire.  “We’ve had such a long, _productive_ time together, you and I, Felix.  Lots of _memories_.”  Felix swallowed and then made a low choking sound, apparently swallowing hurt with a blade pressed to one’s throat.  Peter cocked his head to one side, turning towards Wendy with an expression looked, for some reason, unsure.  “Did you want him to touch you, Wendy?”

Did it matter?  Wendy looked Felix in the eyes and set her shoulders, feeling power burst like tiny stars beneath her skin.  Somehow, she’d thrown Peter off his guard.  For a moment, her desire to win her perpetual game with Peter warred with her desire to see Felix punished, but their game had always seemed private, and there was no gain in handing Felix any form of victory.  “No,” she answered primly, and then, feeling bold, curtsied to the both of them and turned to sit back in Peter’s chair.

Despite herself, a smile found it’s way back onto her lips at the sight of Felix stumbling into the dark on the other side of the forest a moment later.  Peter popped into view leaning over the arm of his throne, the air displaced by his sudden appearance rustled her locks of hair and made her shiver.  She felt his breath on her ear, making her own hitch just the smallest amount.

“Tell me, Wendybird, have you ever heard the sound of someone with only half a shadow?”

Wendy kept her eyes pointed forward, swallowed hard, and shook her head.  Peter leaned closer to her, his lips brushing against the skin just in front of her ear.  “Felix has.”

He disappeared momentarily, and Wendy fell to the side, unaware that she had been leaning towards him at all.  Peter returned again, this time with pipes in hand, sitting on the arm of the chair with one long leg hanging lazily over the side.  His grinning mouth wrapped around the top of his instrument and he began to play, the hurricane of boys before her whipping once more into the frenzy she was used to.  Wendy jumped off Peter’s throne and beckoned to him, taking steps backwards into the revel.

Wendy whirled with the Lost Boys, enjoying the knowledge of Felix’s absence and her role in causing it.  She danced till her feet ached, shrieking when the pull of Peter’s free arm brought her too close to the fire.  And everywhere, the feeling of Peter’s fingers and the smell of forest and smoke.

**Author's Note:**

> for darlingneverland <3


End file.
